Survivor's guilt / left behind IDEAS!!!
── .✦ The doctor said she was lucky. She has not yet found a way to explain to the doctor what that word does to her now. What it costs her every time someone says it. Lucky. Like surviving was something she did to someone.
── .✦ He goes over it. Every night, every version, every small decision that split into this outcome and not another. If he'd been thirty seconds faster. If he'd said something different. If he'd just—the math never changes...
── .✦ "You made it," they keep telling her, like that's the part she's struggling with. She knows she made it. She was there. She made it and he didn't and nobody seems to understand that those two facts live in her like something at war.
── .✦ She laughs at something on TV and for three full seconds everything is normal. And then it crashes back in. The guilt of the three seconds, the guilt of the laughing, the guilt of still being someone who can laugh, and she's back under again.
── .✦ He visits the grave more than he probably should. Stands there and doesn't say anything most times. Sometimes he says it should've been me and means it completely and waits for something to argue back. But nothing does.
── .✦ "You need to stop blaming yourself," they say, and she nods, and she means to, and then she's alone again and the blame is right there where she left it, patient as anything, waiting.
── .✦ "I should've been there," he said, for the hundredth time, and she finally looked at him and said, "And then what? Then I'd be standing here saying it about you?" He didn't have an answer. He's still looking for one.
── .✦ She is so tired of being the one who made it. She is so tired of carrying the weight of a life that sometimes feels like it belongs to someone else.
── .✦ He built a whole future out of guilt. Every good thing he does now he does with her name underneath it, like a foundation, like a debt he'll never finish paying off. He doesn't know if that's honoring her or punishing himself. Maybe both. Maybe that's the same thing now.
── .✦ "Do you ever think about why you?" her therapist asks. Every day, she doesn't say. Every single day I think about why me and I never come up with an answer that doesn't make me want to disappear.
── .✦ The hardest day wasn't the funeral. The hardest day was six months later when she woke up and for one terrible, beautiful, unforgivable second--she'd forgotten.
── .✦ He's good at it now. Surviving. He's built a whole life around the skill of it. Some nights he hates himself for how good he's gotten.
── .✦ She doesn't talk about it. People think that means she's healed. People think silence is the same as peace. She knows better. She knows silence is just where the loudest things live.
